love, screw us over
by the city in love
Summary: Briarwood-Octavian: A high school full of teenagers, just waiting to fall in love / "I don't want to fall in love, I want to fall out of it." / Because teenage love hurts the most.  ON HIATUS.
1. Character Introductions

Disclaimer: I am not Lisi Harrison, she is not me. You know how the cookie crumbles. I don't own the Clique.

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><p>[Briarwood Octavian]<br>_A school full of **mindless teenagers**, just waiting to fall in love.  
><em>(/)

m**block**;  
><em>the girl who doesn't want to fall in love.<br>_"May love screw you over."

c**lyons**;  
><em>the girl who has eyes for only him.<br>_"I'm sorry, but I love Cam. Not you."

d**marvil**;**  
><strong>_the girl who sees ugly in the mirror.  
><em>"Mom, he loves me. Why is that so hard to understand?"

a**rivera**;**  
><strong>_the girl who tries much too hard.  
><em>"No one says no to Alicia Rivera."

k**gregory**;  
><em>the girl under pressure.<br>_"Don't make me choose. You can't make me do that."

d**harrington**;  
><em>the boy who gets what he wants.<br>but fights to survive.  
><em>"Just admit it, Block. You're in love with me."

c**fisher**;  
><em>the boy who wants to give up.<br>_"We can't keep playing these games, Claire."

k**hurley**;  
><em>the boy who sees beauty.<br>_"You're beautiful. Like, really beautiful."

j**hotz**;**  
><strong>_the boy who has a choice.  
><em>"I don't know what to do, man."

c**plovert**;  
><em>the boy who's a ghost.<br>_"Kiss me. What do you have to lose?"

Risks. Heartbreak. Love. Graduation. Tears. Friendship.  
>Death. Danger. Rebellion. Thunderstorms. Wishes. Hope.<br>Imagination. Promises. Broken smiles. Empty words.  
><em>Ten teenagers. Ten hearts. One year.<em>

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><p><strong>(<strong>Character Introductions**)**  
>So, here I am, writing a shameless love story. Well, I have to warn you,<br>this won't end happily for some of the characters. This won't be the average  
>love story. I'm taking risks with this one. And I'm ready to make mistakes.<br>Love is a tricky little thing.

re_view. _


	2. and, we're always running away

**an:  
><strong>first chapter.  
>excuse the lack of detail.<br>mistakes belong to me.  
>although, the clique does not.<p>

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><p><strong>[<strong>/**]  
><strong>;block, massie;

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><p>Kendra Block has a strict script.<br>_[She expects you to say what she wants,_  
><em>to move when she says so, and to hear<em>  
><em>what she wants you to. Everything must<em>  
><em>go her way]<em>

I know because, well, I'm her daughter. If and when you do not play by her rules, you will pay the price. She craves perfection for herself and those around her. Perfection is hair, clothes, and make-up all in place. Perfection is manners, obedience and poise. Perfection is my worst enemy.

I think at some point in time, Kendra gave up on attempting to train me to perfection. At some point, she must have realized that I wasn't the daughter she wished for because she blocked me out of her life, and I was only along for the ride.

I must sound as though I'm a mindless misfit, but truly I'm not. I have a voice and I speak my mind. So, when Kendra announced we were moving to Westchester, New York, I decided I was done going along for the ride, and put up a fight.

"No, I can't go there. You know exactly why," I hissed.

"You're sixteen, you need to grow up and realize the past is over."

"You act as though we can just pretend that the fire never happened. You act like Dad never existed. You act like we can just forget!"

"I've forgotten, and I think you should, as well." She said, calm. Kendra put down her fork and looked at me from across the dinner table, challenging me to rebut.

"How the hell can I forget when there's a scar on my face reminding me everyday of your mistakes? You told Dad you loved him, and you lied. He didn't deserve you and now I have to be reminded of that everyday when I look in the mirror."

By then, I was in tears, and I was so wound up, I threw my dinner plate across the table, barely missing Kendra. I ran up to my room, the aftertaste of pasta and bitter words, staining my mouth. I threw everything up in the toilet, only out of guilt, and fell asleep into a slumber full of nightmares.

When I woke up, our bags were packed, the house was empty, and we drove to Westchester, our new home.

Kendra always wins.

[/]

The thing about New York is, the streets are made of garbage, but somehow the people seem to manage to be trashier then the roads. In Westchester, this statement is more then true.

Our new house sits atop a hill. It overlooks Westchester, and I hate to admit it, but it's beautiful. But a drowning feeling goes through me as I realize that the downer of having a large house is the silence that will come with living in it.

"There's a stable near here. And the school isn't far, either. But naturally, Isaac will be driving you."

This will be the sixth home I've lived in with Kendra. I look over to her as she grips the steering wheel, driving up the hill. For a perfection-starved mother, she isn't that bad. But she's always running away.

As soon as we start to settle in somewhere, and it begins to feel like home, she makes us leave. I almost hate her for that.

Almost.

"You like it?" She asks, once we park in front of the mansion.

Yes. "No."

"You'll get used to it."

_That's what I'm afraid of._

But of course, it's what she expects.

[/]

That night, while I unpack everything on my pre-shipped bed with Inez, our housekeeper since I was six, Kendra walks in unannounced. We're laughing about Inez's soap opera obsession, and Kendra just stands there. Awkwardly, even.

"Ms. Block," Inez gasps. I'm shocked as well. No matter where we've lived, Kendra's never stepped  
>foot in my bedroom. She believes in privacy. To protect herself, of course.<p>

"Inez, please be dismissed to cook dinner." She orders as Inez scurries out.

"I like the room," I comment, filling in the silence. And it's true. The white and purple walls, hardwood floor, and modern design style is sleek and sophisticated. Very Kendra.

She turns to me. "We need to talk,"

I don't want to talk to you. "Fine."

"You start school on Wednesday. I expect you to be prepared by then," She says, and adds quickly, "Also, the reason we moved here isn't what you think, Massie."

"Oh."

Pause.

"Good night."

"Is that all?"

"Did you want to talk about something else?" Kendra asks.

I want to talk about Dad. I want to talk about the fire. I want to talk about why the hell we moved here. I want to talk about everything. "No. Good-night." I whisper.

As soon as she leaves, I cry myself to sleep.

[/]

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><p>I'm willing to rewrite this. Depending on the feedback. I didn't want to give you all of Massie's personality, just a taste. And her relationship with her Mother.<br>That's important for later chapter(;

**Review Response To **(entwined leather)**: **Thanks for the review, I hope this isn't too long. I wanted the reader to think this would be cliche, and then totally throw them off. I'm changing around pairings, making characters much more deep, and there's going to be a lot of twists and turns. I hope you stick around for the ride, because I have a lot planned!

**[city in love]**


	3. can you hear the teenage tears?

**an:  
><strong>what a wait.  
>another massie chapter.<br>i was motivated.  
>mistakes are mine.<br>the Clique is not.  
>anyone up to be a beta?<p>

This chapter is for **entwined-leather**, **it's just that feeling**, **pillow-cases of hearts**, **twilight shopholic**, and **the wonderful oz.  
><strong>and anyone else who alerted/read/favorited.

this chapter fails. but don't give up on me.

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><p><strong>[<strong>/**]  
><strong>;block, massie;

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><p><em>When I was six, my perfect little world came falling down.<br>With every home we lived, Kendra tried to piece our lives  
>back together. But our shattered lives is something that<br>not even Kendra can fix. No matter how hard she tries._

I **was** never and **will** never be perfect. But there was a time when I was happy. There was a time when Kendra wasn't so perfection-starved. There was a time when I had a father. His name was William Block. A beautiful man. He never expected me to be perfect. He had no expectations for me. He always told me that there nobody better then Massie Block, and I believed him. And now that he's gone, so is his little Massie.  
><em>And now, instead of nobody being better then Massie Block, everybody is.<em>

Anyway, _once upon a time_, we were a family. But Kendra had to go and ruin it all. She fought over everything, and broke our family apart. I remember the day that my Dad died, everything happened so fast.

I was in my bedroom one second, hiding in the corner, blocking my ears, the sound of my parents' fighting seeping through the door. And the next second, Kendra was hovering over me, telling me to run. I ran down the stairs, and suddenly, I had a thought.

"Where's Daddy?" I remember screaming. And I will never forget the look of shock and fear in Kendra's eyes.

I turned back to run, and Kendra ran after me, screaming at me to come back. But I was fast. Too fast. I tripped into the kitchen, and looked frantically around for my dad. Suddenly, flames arose around me and I had never felt so much pain.

I passed out and woke up in the arms of a fire fighter. I whispered: "Daddy,"

It was the worst birthday ever.

The days after that, Kendra wouldn't let me look in the mirror, or speak about Dad. But the day of his funeral, I caught a glimpse of myself in a rain puddle. It was a blur, but I saw one long scar running down the side of my face.

One long scar reminding me everyday of my mothers' mistakes, my fathers' death, and who I once was.

_My father died in the arms of flames.  
>Sometimes, I convince myself that when my father died, he took my happiness with him.<em>_  
><em>

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><p><strong>[<strong>and back to the present, we **go]**

Two days have passed, and I haven't spoken one word to Kendra. Or to anyone, really.

The few friends I had back in our old town called, but I ignored the calls. It's best to not get close to anyone from your past, and it's best to never say good-bye. Good-byes usually end in tears. And only weak people cry, according to Kendra. Which in many ways, due to my silent night sobs, makes me weak. Very weak.

"Massie, wake up. You begin school today."

I wake up to see Inez staring down at me. I nod silently, and thirty minutes after she's gone, I dress in nothing special, do nothing fancy to my hair, and cringe at the idea of wearing make-up. So, when I look at myself in the mirror, I see just a girl in a grey and black ensemble with untamed hair and a scar running down the side of her pale face.

Gorgeous.  
><em>Don't you just love teenage sarcasm?<em>

When I get downstairs, Kendra stares at me once and sighs, barely trying to hide the disgust. "That's not a very attractive outfit. Don't you want to make an impression?"

I don't bother looking at her, and mutter. "Well, at least I'm going to school. It shows that I have a thirst for education and _that _should make some sort of impression," _There's that teenage sarcasm, again._

We eat in silence after that. Or rather, I eat and Kendra picks at her food, pushing the eggs around with her fork.

I nod at her as some sort of good-bye/have a nice day, and follow Isaac into the driveway eventually.

"Briarwood-Octavian is a very prestigious school, Ms. Block. Very good academic programs." He says, trying to lighten the mood.

I ignore him, but smile. He makes a better effort then Kendra ever has.

When we arrive, I groan. High-school's a bitch.

"Thanks for the drive," I wave. As soon as I step foot on the school grounds, I know I'm in for a nightmare.

Girls dressed in designer gossip in little packs with their friends while boys try and look up their skirts. It's a sickening affair.

I sigh, and plug my iPod earphones into my ears.

High-school out. Music in.

At least, until the bell rings. After that, I'm screwed.

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><p>didn't go through for mistakes.<br>sorry, loves.  
>your review made me smile.<br>the story is going slow, but it'll speed up after this chapter  
>once i introduct everyone else.<br>_i don't like this chapter. ugh. _


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